Magnetism or Mis-Management?
by Viv Head
On a cruise in company day in June, during the glorious long, hot summer of 2018, I found myself in the middle of a ‘moment of high interest’, a term used by a jolly sailor of my acquaintance to describe any brush with near disaster. The tide was almost on springs and ebbing when the four boats left the comfort of Cardiff Bay and began heading down channel. There was little wind, even so the usual two greyhounds amongst us quickly slipped away.
The tide always moves you along in the Bristol Channel and this is especially true when rounding Lavernock Spit just beyond Penarth, where the tide is particularly fierce. I sail the Cornish Shrimper Nutmeg, often single handed as now. Not so long ago I found myself doing a wind-assisted 10.3 knots during a hectic ‘fly-past’ of Lavernock Spit. Today though, with only a zephyr more or less on the nose, we were doing a more modest 4.5 knots. I did have the sails up but they had little effect on my speed, I was mainly just being borne by the tide and therein lies part of the problem that was heading my way.
A south cardinal buoy marks the Spit for bigger ships. Such innocent yellow beacons when they are far off but such terrifying giants close up. I was keeping an eye on the buoy and was intent on passing inside it, where there was plenty of water for Nutmeg. I began to see though, that it appeared to be somewhat closer to my port side than it had been. No cause for concern but I moved the tiller over just to make certain. That didn’t make a jot of difference of course, but it took a moment or two to realise it. I started the engine just to be sure then quickly realised I was in a tidal stream that was rapidly pulling me onto the buoy. I put the engine into gear, gave it full revs and pulled hard to starboard. It made no difference at all. The realisation that there was nothing I could do to avoid a collision was quite scary.
We struck on the port bow at four and a half knots, or possibly more thanks to the screaming engine; it was a considerable impact. I was flung across the cockpit, for some reason the engine cut out even though it was at maximum throttle, and the boat spun around through 180 degrees so that I was soon looking forward but at a fast receding buoy rushing away from me. I quickly put my head in the cabin expecting to see gushing water but there was none. I got back on course and hung over the side as best I could but could see no sign of damage, which I found incredible. Hugh Harrison on Evenstar was nearby and called up on the VHF to ask if I needed assistance. Thankfully I didn’t, but it was good to know that it was there if I had needed it. I continued down channel to round the Merker port hand mark off Barry Harbour and, with the tide and a rising wind now behind me, enjoyed a spirited return passage. I gave a respectful nod to the south cardinal of Lavernock Spit.
I later found a three-foot strip of paint was missing at the waterline and a length of backrest planking inside the cabin was substantially split longways, indicating the fibreglass hull must have been pushed in to some extent and sprung back out again without apparent damage. A moment of high interest that could have been so much worse. I will be taking a lot more notice of on-rushing navigation marks in future!
Viv Head